What Rough Beast [Blood Oath 1] (36 page)

Luc cursed him with his eyes.

Garrick rejoiced.

Three months ago, they'd feared, even with the aid of were blood and as much as Garrick himself could spare, that Luc's vampyr would not be able to heal his blindness.

He didn't speak. He rarely did now, and he'd ruthlessly closed his mind from both him and Kate as soon as his severed vocal chords had knitted enough to produce a hoarse rasp. But Garrick read his fury and frustration in the cold glitter of his eyes, the stiff set of his shoulders, the white shine of his knuckles fisted against his crippled knees.

Three fingers on each hand.

Not five.

Garrick's stomach rolled with sick shame at his failure to protect him, at the damage that had been wrought on the young vampyr's mind and body to draw Garrick out.

So much pain and suffering.

Garrick could almost endure it—almost—if the damage had only been physical. But what they'd done to Luc's spirit was a constant, throbbing ache. When hopelessness and despair threatened to overwhelm him, Garrick fell back to repeating what Kate never stopped insisting, never stopped believing:
"Give it time, Luc."

"Time?” He laughed, a hoarse, brittle sound that shivered up Garrick's spine. “Yes, I've centuries to endure yet before you're forced to break your damn vow and take my head."

Garrick flinched, though pleased that Luc at last seemed ready to speak more than reluctant monosyllables. “Every night, you heal further. Your body may still recover,” he said, but Luc's silent sneer bespoke the lie.

His recovery had slowed in the past weeks, his body's ability to repair itself sharply declining. The setting sun no longer brought the hope of another milestone of shattered bone knit together, of torn muscle and sinew mended. Luc worked now to adapt to his body's new limitations: his limp, the loss of his fingers, the ropey scars that made drawing humans to him for blood a grueling ordeal.

"I am a monster."

His heart wrenched at even so glancing a link with Luc's shattered mind, the crushing grief, self-loathing, and pain, but just as quickly, Luc shut him out.

When Garrick could stand to look at him again, bear the horror of the burdens he had placed on the young vampyr, one of Luc's remaining fingers traced crude white stripes the dark masters had engraved into his chest. They'd sliced deep, devastating his internal organs to carve the mocking word there for all eternity:

"Thank you, Father."

Garrick hung his head low, took the sharp lash of Luc's ruined voice as punishment he well deserved. “I love you,” he said. His bitterly strong and healthy voice lowered to a husky rumble in a pain that rivaled Luc's. “Too much to watch you die."

"Your love is too costly,” Luc snarled. “Can your love give my fingers back to me? The headhunters won't have me, not with maimed hands. I can't defend myself, much less go to war.” He fisted a crippled hand and slammed it into the tree. Wood splintered. “A vampyr who cannot fight is useless. Impotent. Less than a man."

"You will grow stronger.” Garrick swallowed the boulder that had lodged in his throat. “Every night, you grow stronger."

"Can your love give me a mate?” he demanded. “No female could love this...thing...I've become, and even if a female were willing to look beyond the scars, her vampyr would never accept mine, never accept blood that's been mutilated and wasted."

"Your healing is not yet complete. Give it ti—"

"No woman can bear look at me!"

Garrick's nostrils flared, scenting Kate before he detected the faint rustle of her clothes as she glided from the shadows.

"I look at you.” Kate walked to Luc. “And my vampyr likes you just fine."

"For God's sake, don't touch me.” When Garrick glanced hopefully up, Luc had twisted away from the tree and backed a rejecting step in retreat. He visibly shuddered, both three-fingered hands lifted to ward her away. “Don't. I am
unclean
."

Kate didn't heed Luc's warning. Her arms snaked around his torso, wrapped around his damaged body to hold him, her cheek resting on the damning word carved into his chest. “You are what you have always been. My guardian. My friend."

"Garrick.” He kept his arms raised, the muscles of his neck cording in his effort to resist holding her, gaining comfort from her.

"The masters’ blood taint is long gone from you. Whatever you believe of yourself, of what you fear, you must entertain no doubts of that. They are dead. They can't hurt you anymore."

Luc's eyes rounded in desperate entreaty, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. “Father. Please."

Garrick exhaled a tired breath. “Come to me, Kate."

She sighed, brushed a chaste kiss across the brand on Luc's chest, but when Garrick lifted his hand to reach for her, she came into his arms. He tucked her against him, sniffed, enjoyed the fresh feminine scent of her hair. “When do you want to leave?” Kate stiffened against him in mute protest.
"No, love. He needs to go."

Luc's stare glittered. “Tonight."

"No,” Kate shouted, her small hand tightening on his bicep. “Garrick, you can't let him, not this quickly. He's barely recov—"

"Shh,” he said calmly, smoothly, his gaze never leaving Luc's. Crushing relief devastated him, made his body far weaker than the maimed vampyr before him.
"Thank God."
Garrick fought tears and won. Barely.
"Look at him, Kate."

She opened her mouth to argue.

He stopped her with a subtle stroke of her hip.
"He's challenging me."

Kate's eyes studied Luc under her lashes.
"He knew you wouldn't let him go tonight, for my sake if not his."
Garrick felt the first stunning sweep of relief rush through her as intimately as he'd felt his own.
"His pride is returning."

"Just look at him. My son."

"No."

Luc glared indignant fury.

The tips of Garrick's lips curved a minute degree. “You'll remain long enough to give a proper good-bye to your ward, or have you forgotten her?"

"Of course not.” He flushed an angry, embarrassed pink. “How can I forget Kate when you never let me?” he said waspishly.

Kate's lips thinned. “I hadn't realized I'd become such a burden to you."

"That's not what I meant.” Luc swung his gaze to Garrick in silent, reluctant appeal.

He arched an amused brow.
"You dug yourself into this. Dig yourself out."

"One week. You'll give Kate one week."

"And see that you do not part on bad terms."

"Fine,” Luc said woodenly, but Garrick detected the quickening beat of his heart, felt the urgency the younger vampyr felt to depart.

"I've secured property for you in America, the Southern Appalachians. An abandoned mine will provide an adequate sanctuary for you, and two hundred acres of virgin woodlands to rebuild your strength, to train, for your weres to hunt."

Luc's body snapped to attention, his nostrils flaring foul temper. “I'll go where I want, without your bloody were babysitters."

"I'll tolerate only so much rebellion from my son, Luc,” Garrick said, voice steely and implacable. “Until you mate, I release you, or you kill me to regain your freedom, you will do exactly as you are told. Do you understand?"

He bared his teeth, smothered a harsh oath.

"You're too hard on him, Rick."

He kissed the crown of her head.
"If I were softer, we'd lose him."

"Luc."

He planted his three-fingered fists on his hips, his eyes shooting daggers at him. “I hate you,” he finally snarled.

"I know.” Luc's loathing and disgust shredded him. “Say the words."

He glared long minutes, but finally, mouth twisted to a fierce scowl, he dipped his head an infinitesimal degree.
"I'll feed from the weres to speed my healing. I'll grow strong. I'll learn to fight better than I fought when my body was whole. I won't risk myself or the weres you entrust to me. I will live. Because you demand it."

"I understand."

Garrick studied him then, the infuriated angle of his jaw, the proud steel of his spine. He understood better than most how much this hurt him, this yielding of control over his life to another, even to him. They'd shared the same stable once, enslaved by the same master. They'd killed him together, gained their first taste of freedom together. They'd hunted dark masters as partners until the call to turn had proven too great for Garrick, and for the first time, ever, Luc had been alone.

Garrick had not stolen a son from the dark masters.

He'd regained the son he'd already, once, set free.

He could not, would not lose him again.

He nodded to the jungle with a jerk of his head. “Go. Feed."

With a low growl, Luc melted into the surrounding shadows, but he
did
obey.

Kate released a long breath, relaxing into him. “Do you think he'll be all right?"

"Yes. No."
Garrick pulled her closer. “I don't know."

"Are
you
all right?” she said against his neck, her pink tongue tracing his pulse point with arousing tenderness.

"I have your love, the devotion of my weres, and Luc lives.” His shoulder jerked to a shrug. “None of our kind has ever been so blessed."

She chuckled against his skin. “None of our kind has ever been so greedy."

"True.” He smiled. Already, his heart lifted. For her. Because of her. “And that's where the rebellion went wrong. Slavery taught us to expect little, to hope for little. The war has given us a chance for more, but we've been too scared, too beaten down to grab it. If we don't reach for much, reach for all they have taken from us, the masters have won."

"Like I said."
She scraped her teeth along his throat.
"Greedy."

He threw back his head and laughed.
"For you. I want more for my mate than crude survival and centuries of hiding from bloody war. I want a world of fierce, greedy love, so much you grow drunk with it. Someday, I promise you'll have it."

"You've already given it to me. Whenever we touch. Every time you breathe."

"Stop teasing me, love.” He anchored her to his body, cradled her scalp with his palm. “I need."

Her teeth sank into him.

He stiffened, mind reeling in awesome pleasure.

And as she sipped at his neck, loving him with her heart and her soul, Kate gave that world to him too.

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Kari Gregg lives in the mountains of Wild and Wonderful West Virginia with her Wonderful husband and three very Wild children. Once Kari discovered the fabulous play land of erotic romances at RWA's National Conference in 2009, the die was cast. Finally! A market for the smoking hot stories she loves!

When Kari's not writing, she enjoys reading, coffee, zombie flicks, coffee, naked mud-wrestling (not really), and...coffee!